


Respectable

by AngryGayFriend



Category: Les Misérables - All Media Types
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Asian Character(s), Black Character(s), Character(s) of Color, Crossdressing, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Fluff and Angst, M/M, Prom, parks and rec inspired
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2014-12-24
Updated: 2014-12-27
Packaged: 2018-03-03 05:06:10
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 4,232
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2839118
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/AngryGayFriend/pseuds/AngryGayFriend
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Enjolras pulls together the perfect prom, but the night of he decides to wear an outfit that leaves him self-conscious for the whole evening. Grantaire is there, as ever, to bother him like it's high school all over again til he finally spills the beans about what's wrong. Also being a black face in a white space doesn't make things easier.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> so like i'm in mourning basically and decided to write a fic to deal with the sad. it's been a while, the prose writing joints are rusty, but i just binged parks and rec so vaguely based on S6E17.

Nudge. Enjolras glanced over his shoulder, and was greeted by a sharpie frowny face on one of the gigantic balloons.

"This is what you look like, Enjolras."  
Grantaire said from behind the bright silver polyurethane.

"Grantaire," His voice a warning, "I just want to put my chaperone shift in and go home, don't make this harder than it has to be."

He tossed the balloon aside to join the others aimlessly flopping around the prom floor. "Come on, you're pouting more than usual, which I didn't think was possible," Grantaire said with a look. "You can either tell me what's wrong or I'll spend another 10 minutes annoying you before you finally do anyways."

Enjolras just folded his arms and shrugged.

Grantaire waited a beat, eyebrows raised expectantly. "Can you do things the easy way, for once E?"

To that, he snorted.

Grantaire sighed, "Alright, I'm gonna get some snacks in case you make this take a while, don't make any kids cry in the meantime." 

Enjolras watched him walk away, the suit he wore not quite fitting, but still making him look better than most of the rented teenage prom date cutouts. He'd never admit it, but he'd much rather Grantaire annoy him all night than stand alone, awkward in the corner like he did at his own prom. This was all for the kids, but he appreciated the company while he was technically on duty, even if he wouldn't admit it. The city's Community Development Department was partnering with the Education and Recreation Councils to throw a prom for the nearly-bankrupt high school. After the state nearly shut it down for failing to meet state requirements for nigh ten years, the new budget had essentially cut all social programming at the knees in favor of hiring more teachers. Usually, Enjolras would be all for this. But even he had to acknowledge, as Community Development Director, how a community needs time to decompress and be human beings. The recreation department itself didn't actually have money for a decent prom, but Bahorel and Feuilly had made a compelling enough case for the other departments to join in. Thankfully, two hours into prom, no fights had broken out, no sex had been had in the bathroom, and the punch was thus far still un-spiked. For their town's high school, damn good job. 

"Now you wanna reconsider your previous position?" Grantaire asked, pushing a glass of punch at him.

He relented, taking a sip but not saying anything else. If Grantaire wanted to see Enjolras squirm by talking his ear off, he knew how two could play this game.

Grantaire hummed in consideration as he ate from his small plate, surveying the teens, standing closer so their shoulders just touched. That's when Enjolras smelled the alcohol.

"Seriously?" He immediately snapped. "Grantaire, did you seriously?"

He sighed as he ate more mini-mozzarella sticks. "Literally, one quick shot from a flask. The punch is still fine, it's not like the kids are drinking any, just let me eat some food and it'll be fine."

"That is not the point and you know it."

"No," Grantaire looked at him squarely, "The point is, it's prom. And you can sit around with a stick up your perfect butt but that doesn't mean the rest of us have to suffer too." 

"Exactly, it's prom," Enjolras nearly snapped.

Grantaire just looked at him, not sure quite where to go with that as he slowly kept eating.

Enjolras sighed and adjusted the neckline of his black jumpsuit, pulling the red blazer closer around himself. 

"What was your high school prom like, Enjolras?" Grantaire asked a bit casually.

He handed Grantaire the empty glass back, "Exactly how you think," then went off to go find Combeferre, or Courf, or anyone who wouldn't ask those questions.

Thankfully, Ferre was making rounds checking the bathroom and hallways off the main room to make sure students weren't getting into anything too illicit. When he saw Enjolras come upon him, walking with a purpose, he quirked an eyebrow.

"Do you need any help?" Enjolras asked in the most neutral tone he could manage.

"If you want to oblige, I won't say no." Ferre couldn't say he was surprised that Enjolras was feeling some kind of way. The man had been around that first prom, and as they checked down the empty, unlit halls by the high school gym, it was all too nostalgic.

By the third hallway though, Enjolras was thinking way too loud, chewing his lip and looking lost off in thought, Combeferre felt he couldn't not ask. "You don't have to answer," He broke the tense silence as gently as possible, "but I am curious why, when you scheduled yourself to stand guard by the snacks table, you're joining patrol duty with me instead." 

The sound of their dress shoes each echoed on the linoleum floor a few more moments before he responded. 

"Prom sucks, Grantaire sucks, who knew."

When Enjolras was being ornery, there was nothing to do but wait till he stopped trying to hold it in and launched into a rant already. The South Asian man rolled up his sleeves and checked his watch; Ferre imagined it'd only be another two minutes before--

"I mean, I knew prom would be difficult, and he's going around being fucking Mister Popular and even drinking like... like the kids in high school used to do, and I'm in the corner, as ever, looking like an idiot. And I know I'm the chaperone and it shouldn't matter, which makes me feel worse that I even care, but instead of being called a fag outright, this time I get to fucking broadcast it for everyone regardless, because I was dumb enough to put on this outfit."

Combeferre stopped walking at that, trying to decide for a moment how much to reassure and how much to just plain listen. He opted for the latter for now.

"That sounds hard." 

Because if there was one thing he learned over the years, it's to let Enjolras tire himself out talking before trying to discuss his problems.

"I just," He sighed, "I can't believe I thought this jumpsuit would be okay, and I can't believe I'm the only black person in that room, and I just want a single night where I'm not worrying about Grantaire, is that too much to ask?" he threw up his hands, done with the situation. After all the stress of planning this (because of course, even if it wasn't originally his department throwing this, he had been the main one to plan it) it couldn't just be simple. Nothing could ever just be simple.

After a beat or two, Combeferre responded. "I don't know much about fashion, but I do think you look good tonight." 

"Seconded," he immediately turned when he heard Grantaire round the corner, "Of course you'd be the only person who can make glorified pajamas looking stunning." 

Enjolras sighed. "...we can't all be out here in the hall, there are too few chaperones--" 

"I should be getting back anyways," Ferre said as he gently touched Enjolras' elbow. "But text me if you need me." Enjolras hesitated for a second before giving him a nod, as Ferre excused himself from whatever was about to go down.

Grantaire walked down the long corridor lined with lockers as Enjolras just cut to the chase and started talking: "What happened in there really wasn't about you, so I'm sorry if I was... terse."

Grantaire stopped a few feet short of Enjolras and shrugged, "That's how it always goes with you, though. It's usually endearing, but when something's bothering you, it kind of seeps into the rest of your life, inevitably."

He snorted a laugh at that, "That sounds like the least endearing trait I've ever heard." 

"Eh, you pull it off." He offered with a small smile. "Sorry, your first prom sucked so much.."

Enjolras ran a hand through his hair, pushing his gold, mixed curls back, "Look, Grantaire, that was a long time ago and definitely not your fault, so--"

"Do you want to dance?"

Enjolras looked at him blankly.

"Ah, I mean like--" well fuck, now Grantaire was starting to blush, "I just thought it might make this a little better, since-- since, prom." He stammered, "I mean, if you want, it could be fun. But if not, then forget I said anything, we can just stay in the hallway, or we can be all serious chaperones, whatever will help make this easier for you because you put so much work into this so I know you're not going to do the sane thing and just leave if you're having a bad time, like any normal human would do." 

Enjolras cracked a smile at that, if only because Grantaire was standing there, hair all disheveled and suit jacket nowhere to be found now, probably having had another shot though Enjolras was trying not to think about that, his blue eyes all pleading and bright. He was adorable. When Grantaire visibly relaxed seeing the quirk of his lips, he hummed in consideration. Yes, he could leave it all to Combeferre, his deputy director, and just bounce if he really wanted. And yes, it might actually be fun dancing with Grantaire. But right now...

He walked over to one of the locker-covered walls and slid down against it till he was sitting on the dusty tiled floor. Grantaire stared, confused, for a moment, Enjolras he gestured for him to sit down too. 

"Enj?"

"Just this is fine." 

"Sitting out here?"

"Brings back memories of how I spent my actual prom."

"But--"

"I'll tell you what I told Combeferre back then too when we spent an hour waiting in a hallway just like this for his mom to pick us up early. I would rather just spend it here with people who I actually like than go in there and pretend to be anything I'm not. I'd rather sulk out here with you then put on a smile in there." 

Grantaire smiled a bit and rested his head on Enjolras' shoulder. "That's one of the most stubborn things I've heard out of you in a while," he sighed, relaxed rather than tired by him, "I almost would've expected you'd be spiteful about it. Flaunt it, work it, all that."

"Do you know how exhausting that is sometimes?" He looked down at the man's dark curls, "It takes so much energy being... all this. I get fucking tired, Grantaire."

"I know, I know. Your righteous fury is not bottomless, duly noted. I just..." he sat up straight again, "wish I could help more."

Nudge. "This is helping."

"Well, if it is any consolation... Even though you have literally no boobs to speak of to fill out that deep v-neck, you still slay over every white girl in there," Enjolras started giggling there. "And!" Grantaire continued in seriousness, "And I'm sure there's some kid wishing they had that outfit, too scared to speak up, really glad you wore it. So, at least there's that. I know you hate being called brave, but it is a brave thing to do."

"Mmm," he bit his lip trying to stop from laughing too much (which Grantaire found way too cute), "it's just a lot of work being brave all the damn time."

"Good thing you're the bravest person I know then, huh?"

\---  
Combeferre came out about twenty minutes later, finding them in much the same position, Grantaire's head finding a nice home on Enjolras' shoulder as the other scratched at the shaved sides of his undercut.

"I don't want to interrupt if you two are having a moment."

"Nah, it's fine," Grantaire pulled away and sat up, "Another five minutes and I'd probably fall asleep anyways."

"Did something happen?" Enjolras snapped to attention, hoisting himself back up.

"Yes?" Combeferre half-asked. "In that, they're going to be announcing prom royalty elections, and Grantaire was apparently nominated." 

"Prom royalty?" 

"Seriously? Who the fuck would nominate me?" Grantaire asked.

"Most likely suspect is Jehan, but don't think we all didn't vote for you once we saw." 

Grantaire laughed, "Well that's. A thing, I guess." 

"We should probably head back, either way. There's only half an hour left technically," Enjolras said as he started down the hall.

"You sure?" Grantaire asked as he followed behind, "You really don't have to if it's just gonna stress you out." 

"Since I'm supposed to be in charge of this event, I actually do," he said, using a more professional tone, "but I don't mind so long as I have you all around me."

"Aw, you're getting all sentimental. It's a good look on you," Grantaire smiled. 

"Enjolras is the biggest secret sap there is," Combeferre said as he also went back to the party, "I thought everyone knew that."

\---

Of course, Grantaire was crowned prom king. Because he's Grantaire, dance floor wizard and officially "the cool chaperone". Or, Bahorel may have stuffed the ballot box with his a hundred votes for him, the details were fuzzy, but for certain, his name was called. Everyone clapped as he and the most popular girl in school, Claire Piedmont, got on stage. She was all in bright pink sequins, blond hair dangling in perfect curls. Enjolras nearly groaned at the Barbie doll perfection, but didn't expect any less from the student body. Grantaire politely declined the prom king/queen dance--something about dancing with a 17 year old to a slow song while his not-so-secret love watched felt fucking weird--and handed her off to her boyfriend who was just chomping at the bit because another man was up on stage with his girlfriend. It was all very high school. Enjolras was glad to be done with it and glad that the prom was three songs away from being over. 

As the slow music started up, Grantaire snaked his way through the bodies to where his actual friends were gathered on the side wall. 

"I can't believe you actually put my name in, Jehan!" He said.

"Shush, you look better in that crown than any of them would have," he smiled, the lanky man adjusting Grantaire's dollar store crown so it sat just so. 

"There is no way Bahorel didn't rig the votes." 

"Hardly! I'm offended you'd even suggest it," Bahorel faked completely overdramatic surprise.

"You're the one who's been suggesting it all night," Feuilly said dispassionately next to him, "All you talked about on the way over was how funny it would be if you--"

"You can't prove that in prom court and you know it," Bahorel retorted. 

The last few minutes went surprisingly well. The punch remained a concoction of soda and ice cream and nothing more, with only a few people flasking it. Only one girl ended up puking in the bathroom with Musichetta and Eponine holding her hair back, and Bossuet and Joly only found three boys smoking pot in the parking lot. Most of the balloons remained unpopped (thank god, because Joly nearly screamed every time it happened), and not enabling Courfeyrac's whine for a confetti cannon meant clean up would be bearable. As all the students shuffled out the gym and out of their official supervision to whosever's parents' were out for the weekend's home for an afterparty, they all breathed a collective sigh of relief of a job done decently, if not well.

As they finished up and went out to the parking lot, one by one each piled into their car or carpool and headed off into the night, a few making plans for their own afterparty, a few sticking around a little longer to debrief. It just so happened only Enjolras, Combeferre, Courfeyrac, and Grantaire were left and it just so happened that Courf piled into Ferre's car and drove off before Enjolras and Grantaire had finished their newest argument conversation, and once they were gone, it just so happened there were two people and one car and--

"Come on, Grantaire," Enjolras said as he rounded the car and got out his keys. "I do intend to get home at a decent hour tonight, and I know the buses are still running if you don't want to oblige that." 

Grantaire chuckled as he opened the passenger door, "The only way a threat like that works is if it's not obvious you're bluffing." He smiled as he plopped down on the seat.

"Keep telling yourself that," he couldn't help but smile back as he started the car and got the hell out of that parking lot.

After a few minutes driving along the dark road in silence, "I know to get my place we have to go by yours, so if you want to just go home, I can walk the rest of the way," Grantaire said.

"It'll be nearly 1 by the time we get to my place, don't be ridiculous, Grantaire."

"It's not like I haven't done the walk of shame before. I'm not going to make you drive all the way there and back, Enj." 

"Well too bad," he persisted.  
.  
"Well, I'll just jump out this car then."

"That threat only works when I know you're not bluffing."

"Who says I am?" Grantaire looked at him with the most serious look he could muster.

Enjolras did a double-take. "Grantaire?"

"Enjolras."

Well, fuck. Enjolras liked to think he was good at reading Grantaire's sarcasm, but he also knew Grantaire had that whole parkour phase with Eponine, so there was a serious risk here. Finally, he rolled his eyes and didn't say anything for the rest of the car ride. Grantaire took this as a win. As he pulled into the driveway, he sighed and took out the keys, not yet getting out of the car.

"You're sleeping on my couch, don't bother fighting me on this or we'll be arguing in this car all night," he looked over at Grantaire. "Either way, you won't be walking home by yourself at 1AM." 

Grantaire couldn't help but smile fondly at that, "Do you have any idea how ridiculous you are?"

"I prefer the word determined." 

And that decided it.


	2. Close

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> morning after fluff, enjolras is super ace in this woops.

Grantaire woke with a tickle against his neck and weight around his waist.

Upon further inspection, this weight was Enjolras' arm, and the brush of his curls against the back of Grantaire's neck. Despite being the smaller man, Enjolras was actually great big spoon material. Grantaire sighed, content, fingers gently tracing the line of his arm. Sadly, Enjolras was more than a light sleeper, wrapping his arms tight around Grantaire's waist. "What time is it?" He asked into the back of his neck without opening his eyes.

"Not sure," Grantaire replied as he crooned to see if there was a lock anywhere in Enjolras' living room. "Why? Do you have some place to be?"

"Work to do..." he muttered, starting to fall back asleep.

"It's a Saturday, Enjolras."

"Still," he shifted against Grantaire's back, tangling their legs further.

Grantaire rolled over, gently brushing his frizzing curls back off his face. "Do you seriously want to get up and work right now, or would you rather stay on this amazingly lumpy couch with me?"

He opened his eyes and gave a sleepy smile to Grantaire, holding tighter onto the thin cotton of his t-shirt, "You drive a very hard bargain."

Grantaire felt his heart flip, butterflies suckerpunching him through his stomach, never in a million years would he expect to wake up cuddling like this. Once they got in the door last night, they'd each changed into sweats and old t-shirts (Grantaire borrowed) and once Enjolras hauled out some pillows and blankets for Grantaire he was too tired to head back to his actual room. Originally, he was all set to just sleep in the chair, but with enough prodding (whining), Grantaire convinced him to squeeze onto the couch. And now, pressed on the upholstery, their faces were so close, screw the morning breath. Grantaire could just lean in, and--

"What are you doing."

Grantaire turned beet red. "Um."

Enjolras sat up, his morning curls a bit frizzed and flopping everywhere, blushing a bit himself, "I mean-- it's okay. I was just... What I meant was--"

"No no it was my fault, sorry!" Grantaire tried to get up, was tangled in the blanket and fell face-first on the floor. "Shit!" He scrambled up before Enjolras could help him, "I didn't mean to-- I. I'm going to the bathroom." And with that he dashed down the hall and nearly slammed the door.

Enjolras breathed. Because panicking right now would be opposite of helpful. He had a few options, and some time, now. He could pretend nothing happened. He could address this head on. He could ask casually but give Grantaire an out to the conversation. Or he could call Ferre. But he reminded himself he was, for better or worse, some version of an adult now and constantly going to Combeferre with all of his drama must be tiresome, especially at 8AM on a Saturday morning. The floor was still cold like some washed out April mornings are, so he pulled the light blanket around his shoulders as he padded to the bathroom in the boxers and t-shirt he always slept in. He pushed his mop of corkscrew curls back again as he came upon the door and knocked gently. Better face this head on, he figured. "Grantaire?"

"Kind of busy right now, Enj?"

"Were you trying to kiss me earlier?"

Grantaire choked on the other side of the door; maybe he had been too blunt about this. "Seriously? Why are you asking me that?"

"Well, I want to know."

"What difference does it make?"

He sighed, putting his ear up to the door to hear Grantaire's tone better, "If you did, I wanted to know why."

"Why I would try to kiss you?"

"Yeah.."

"I thought it was pretty fucking obvious," he mumbled.

Enjolras rolled his eyes and slumped to the floor, sitting right up against the door still and wrapping himself more in the blanket. If Grantaire wanted to be difficult about this, it might take a while.

“What do you mean?"

"The reasons someone might want to kiss you should be obvious, Enjolras. Don't... don't make me say it."

He huffed, "I'm just trying to understand your feelings here Grantaire. I don't want to make any assumptions--"

"Well, fuck that. Assume away, I've clearly made an ass out of myself so it's doubtful you'd assume anything wrong."

Enjolras hummed in consideration for a moment, gathering his thoughts. "Then... I assume you did want to kiss me, and I assume you've holed yourself up in the bathroom of all places because you're embarrassed about it. What I'm trying to say, though, is that you shouldn't be embarrassed."

There was no response on the other side, so after a few seconds he continued: "Also, because you're so upset about this, I'm going to guess this isn't just a still-kind-of-drunk decision, but there were some feelings behind it. Is that right so far?"

Another long pause, "Grantaire, seriously? I would love to actually talk to you about this instead of talking to a goddamn wall. We're not in middle school."

He heard a slump on the other end of the door and then Grantaire's voice very close to his head, "Yeah..I know. You just have no fucking clue how long I've been so stupidly into you, so sue me if it's hard for me."

Enjolras sighed, but figured this was better than nothing. "I'm just not... that. I'm not the type of person to kiss you or have sex with you, but that doesn't mean I don't like hanging out a lot, and I do want to... do that more, with you, more often, like tonight."

"So you want to date me, but you don't want anything physical?"

"Yeah? Yes, I think that's a good way to put it. Because if you didn't notice, I like you a stupid amount too."

The door cracked open, Grantaire looking flustered but giving him a bit of a smile.

"Look, if that's not what you want, that's fine. I get it, it's weird, I'm too married to my work, whatever. But--"

Grantaire hooked his arms around his neck and pulled him into a tight hug, shoulder straight to the throat in a bear grip. Enjolras gasped, in part because he literally couldn't breathe and in part surprise, then Grantaire pulled back a bit and held Enjolras' face, pressing their foreheads together.

"This," he stressed, "is fine. You are fine. I will have you in any way you will let me, even if it's just friends, or platonic, or fuck buddies, or pen pals, fuck it, whatever you want is what I need."

Enjolras couldn't help but smile, taking Grantaire's hands from his face and just holding them, "Grantaire," he said slowly, "Don't say that if you don't mean it. Don't feel obligated just because you want this to work--"

"Oh my god," he laughed, “This is what I mean when I say you're ridiculous. I wouldn't have said it if I didn't mean it, Enj, have some faith here."

"Fine, fine," he rolled his eyes. "You know... now that I'm up, there's no way I can't start work."

"Please tell me that's a very poor joke."

(it was.)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> this just made me happy, i'm being self-indulgent and i don't care. i needed an asexual enjolras who isn't down for anything and it's okay.

**Author's Note:**

> yeah like i said i'm rusty. but thanks for reading. thinking of doing a chapter 2 of the morning after, not sure i'll stay motivated for it though.


End file.
